


someone has to leave first

by charizona



Category: GLOW (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Smut, ruth craves connection while debbie craves validation, technically shower sex but, these two hate how much they want each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charizona/pseuds/charizona
Summary: debbie finds ruth in the shower after a long day, takes out her frustration and complicated feelings for her ex best friend.
Relationships: Debbie Eagan/Ruth Wilder
Comments: 9
Kudos: 96





	someone has to leave first

**Author's Note:**

> idk when this is set, they're just in vegas. i have a lot of pent up energy regarding these two and idk if this is even good but :)

For Debbie, it’s the intoxicating taste of power that gets to her. It’s having a particularly hard day in the ring with whoever, but especially with Ruth, who always shows up overprepared, overslept, over- _ everything _ . Always Ms. Fucking Perfect all the time, and by the time they’re in the ring throwing each other around, Debbie’s fucking tired of it.

But mostly she’s tired of the wide eyed looks Ruth keeps giving her. The looks that feel like Ruth knows if she takes one misstep, Debbie will implode, and the tenuous line between them will snap like it fucking should.

Maybe Debbie wants the line to snap. She wants to walk out of Ruth’s life and never talk to her again, but she also craves the sight of Ruth stumbling into the dance class two minutes late, looking something less than one-hundred-and-ten-percent put together. She hates the way Ruth’s ass fits into her tights, or maybe it’s the way Ruth’s ass fits and the way Debbie’s almost doesn’t.

She tells herself it’s because of Ruth’s ass that, after the class is over and Debbie has made sure everyone has left, she stalks into the showers of the hotel gym and finds Ruth there, standing under steaming water.

Ruth doesn’t hear her. Debbie watches Ruth bend over, running a hand down the front of her shin, and she thinks about Ruth’s ass again, but not in the way she was during class. In the way she  _ can’t _ be thinking about Ruth’s ass. Not like this. And yet Debbie slides out of her leotard straps and slides it off and down her body. Then, she hooks her fingers into the waist of her leggings and slides those off, too.

“Ruth,” she says, but that’s all the warning Ruth gets before Debbie presses against her, puts her hands on her waist, and pulls Ruth to her.

Ruth makes a small sound as Debbie smashes their lips together, but quickly quiets and kisses back, the rest of her shock still under Debbie’s touch.

Debbie brings one hand up and pulls Ruth back before twisting her and pressing her against the wall. Ruth hisses as her skin hits the cold, but then Debbie molds their bodies together and wraps a hand around Ruth’s waist, diving between her legs with no hesitation.

She finds Ruth’s clit and rubs a sharp circle around it -- the sound Ruth makes travels down Debbie’s entire spine and floods between her legs, but she ignores it, running two fingers along Ruth’s folds, avoiding where Ruth really wants her. She retracts her hand and grabs Ruth’s ass, taking a minute to feel just how  _ touchable _ it really is. One cheek fits sturdily in Debbie’s hand, and when she dips between Ruth’s legs, Ruth groans.

Debbie finds her wanting. She doesn’t waste time, pushing one finger past Ruth’s entrance and disappearing into tight, wet muscle. Ruth’s hips buck, wanting more of Debbie, but Debbie only pushes her harder into the tiled wall.

And she picks up her pace, pushing a second finger in. She plunges against the front of Ruth’s inner wall like she knows Ruth likes it, and within moments, Ruth’s legs are shaking, her breath is catching, and Debbie’s hair is sticking to her face as the water completely soaks her. “Debbie,” Ruth breathes, voice thick with want.

Debbie wants to tell Ruth to keep it together. Can’t she just hold onto this? The feeling of Ruth at her literal fingertips, the tightness of Ruth becoming the only thing tethering her to the ground? Can’t Ruth just  _ wait _ ?

“God, Debbie,  _ please _ ,” Ruth whimpers, and Debbie adds a third finger and then Ruth’s hips are pressing back and down and she moves herself against Debbie’s fingers until her breath catches in her throat. A moan rips from her as she squeezes against Debbie’s fingers, the orgasm twisting through her insides like hate.

Debbie pulls out her hand softly, releasing her pressure on Ruth. In a moment, Ruth twists around and buries her hands into Debbie’s wet hair. The kiss feels wrong, and Debbie feels sick all of a sudden, and when Ruth puts her hands on Debbie’s breasts, Debbie rips away from the touch, taking a step back.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she warns, and the lost look on Ruth’s face is reward enough.

Hurt, concern, desire -- all of it flashes across Ruth’s features before she drops to her knees and finally gives Debbie the look she’s wanted the entire time. That wide-eyed, afraid that she’s pissed off her best friend, look that she’s worn since they met in acting class, all those years ago. The look that Debbie lived off of when she booked  _ Paradise Cove _ . That look was the look Ruth gave her when she was genuinely happy for Debbie, the look that carried no hint of envy or hatred behind it.

The look that reminds Debbie what a better fucking person Ruth must be.

And then Debbie tangles her fingers into Ruth’s hair, tugs her forward, and presses Ruth’s face between her legs. She holds Ruth there, as Ruth’s tongue presses forward and finds Debbie’s clit, and Debbie refuses to give Ruth the satisfaction of moving, screwing her eyes closed.

Ruth’s hands find placement just above the backs of Debbie’s knees, holding tightly to the skin there, as her tongue moves up and down across Debbie’s center, dipping dangerously close to her entrance. It’s teasing in the worst way, Ruth’s inexperience getting the best of her. Debbie adjusts her stance, standing wider, opening more, and Ruth presses against her harder, wanting so badly to do  _ well _ . Debbie can feel it, the desire radiating off Ruth not only for Debbie but also for  _ success _ .

Debbie feels Ruth’s fingers move higher, to the fleshier parts of her legs, and she’s almost grateful when Ruth’s index fingers stroke the underside of her ass, grateful not to think for more than a moment about what Ruth might be thinking about her legs.

A finger dips too close to the center of her, and Debbie almost flinches. Ruth sucks on her clit with a ferver Debbie isn’t sure she could match, but all Debbie can think about is how she actually wants Ruth’s fingers inside of her. That sick feeling she sometimes gets resurfaces as she imagines the satisfaction Ruth would feel if Debbie came all over her face.

“Fuck,” Debbie breathes, and she almost doesn’t mean to. She  _ definitely _ doesn’t mean what comes next, which is, “Fuck me.” She hopes it’s quiet enough, but of course, of  _ fucking  _ course, Ruth hears her, and she’s pulling a hand around to the front of Debbie’s pelvis, sliding it up her thighs, and pressing hesitant, testing fingers against Debbie’s entrance.

She finds it soon enough, and Debbie likes it too much to tell her to stop. She laps a tongue against Debbie’s clit as she slides a finger inside, and Debbie bites her lip to keep a moan inside. Ruth thrusts tentatively, and Debbie groans. “For fuck’s sake,  _ Ruth _ ,” she says, digging a hand deeper into Ruth’s hair. “I said  _ fuck me _ .”

A second finger pushes inside and Ruth picks up the pace with a few awkward strokes that rip through Debbie’s entire torso. And then Ruth finds a rhythm that works, stroking her tongue in slow circles around Debbie’s clit almost in opposition to the movement of her hand. She picks up the pace, pushing in and out, and Debbie’s stomach clenches so hard she almost topples forward. She catches herself on the wall, slapping a flat palm against the tile.

Debbie comes hard against Ruth’s face and it’s not at all like she imagined. She isn’t flooded with humiliation as soon as it’s over, and when Ruth pulls her fingers out and pulls her head back, Debbie actually looks down and meets her gaze.

Ruth wipes her lips with the back of her hand. Sits on her heels. 

Debbie, in this moment, wishes for her best friend. Wishes they could go and snuggle in a bed and pretend these moments didn’t exist, their past didn’t exist, and they weren’t just two fucked up women who could do practically nothing other than want each other.

Ruth stands up before Debbie leaves. But as soon as Ruth is almost at eye level with her, Debbie turns around and grabs a towel, scraping hard at her skin with the hope that it will erase whatever just happened. She feels Ruth’s eyes on her as she does it, and hopes ruefully that Ruth is enjoying the show. She doesn’t bother with her clothes, instead grabbing one of the robes hanging on a bathroom stall. 

As she walks out, she does not look at Ruth again.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are tasty. hope you enjoyed!


End file.
